


just a ripple in the pond to you

by nik0li



Series: Dream SMP works [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, realistic mc mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nik0li/pseuds/nik0li
Summary: Dream's nights were spent dreary and pondering, reliving memories in a blurry haze with the absence of time on his mind and his heart constantly trying to escape his fluttering chest.He didn't know what he wanted more: George to visit him, or for himself to die entirely.What would be better? A life of waiting, or a life in peace, where at least he wouldn't hurt anyone again?***In other words, Dream is locked away and left to reflect.George is surprisingly not sleeping and procrastinating on visiting Dream.Will a cashed in favor be enough to reunite the two, at any cost? Or will Dream rot away, like Sam suggested, with his heart aching instead?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream/George - Relationship, Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Series: Dream SMP works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142981
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	just a ripple in the pond to you

**Author's Note:**

> this story is going to have a plot! this chapter is kind of a general standpoint moreso for me than for the audience, so i can keep tabs on what's going on and where i'm starting. 
> 
> pretty much, you CAN skip this chapter (cause it's absolute trash) and move onto the second one, or don't! i don't mind, and it's all your choice.

For years, Dream had been carefully constructing a reputation for himself centered around blood, power, and forcefully earned respect. Honeyed words gave way to the cruelest forms of manipulation but, no matter who he targeted to make their life a living hell, he was given the ability to bend their will to his own. He always succeeded. To the people he used, his word may as well have been law. TommyInnit, for example, was no exception. 

Dream had saw Tommy as a sort of play thing. A source of momentary amusement for his twisted pleasures, a marionette in which he could pull the strings in whichever way he pleased while simultaneously meeting no retaliation. Tommy couldn't do anything and, with the amount of expendable resources and pure strength in his hands, nobody had the right or the potential to stop him. Sure, he figured "Big Brother Technoblade" could have a chance at defending his younger, childish sibling, but the piglin hybrid never stepped a toe out of line. He knew the consequences. They all did. 

Now, Dream was, as always, walking through the streets of the remnants of L'Manburg. A sadistic sort of pleasure rippled through his gut as he eyed the absolute disarray the once prospering nation had been reduced to. Smoke still seeped from cracks in the Earth where fires had burned, ignited by the overuse of TNT he'd set up with the help of the other "God" on the server. Hissing noises from frayed wires previously working underground were one of the only things to break the silence, save for the whispering of the wind and the dull thud sounds of his netherite boots hitting the splintered wood underfoot. 

As expected, a few moments later, he came across a familiar blonde child, blue eyes rounding at the very sight of the mask-bearing man, then quickly hardening into a stare that could thaw ice. Unfortunately, Dream was pure fire, and was absolutely unaffected by the hatred and hurt in the eyes of TommyInnit. 

"Tommy," Dream lulled, walking towards him with his hands discarded loosely in his pockets. Tommy's eyes shone with distrust while he regarded him and Dream found himself more than a little bit impressed with the fact that Tommy had stayed silent. "What are you doing here? Mourning the loss of your city?"

"I'll build L'Manburg up again, Dream, just you wait," Tommy said, voice low and gravelly like it usually was when he was perturbed. How wonderful it was, Dream revelled, to know he could still get under his skin just as easily as he could beforehand. 

“I trust that you will try, but I highly doubt you will succeed.” Dream remarked, tone cold but still holding that same flicker of genuineness, the same tone he used when he spoke to Tommy all those weeks ago, when he’d been exiled from his own nation. 

Tommy clearly had his feathers ruffled, but stood up and averted his eyes anyway. His expression was set into a stormy one, betraying how his waters had clearly been tested, when he took a step backwards. “See you later, Big D. ‘D’ is for dumbass, because it suits you. Mean Dream. You know that rhymes, right? You should recall this place the ‘Mean Dream Team SMP’.” Tommy then raced off, leaving Dream standing with his lips quirked up in a half smile, although concealed behind the ceramic face of his mask. 

“Yes, Tommy. I’ll definitely be seeing you later.” Images of flashing swords and music discs, a vault containing all of the stolen beloved items of this land of chaos and corruption, Tommy and Tubbo standing before him, all flash before his eyes and Dream’s smirk widens, ever so slightly but enough to force a grim chuckle out of his chest, far different and colder than his usual breathless wheezes. 

***

Days pass and Dream’s steady masses of materials rise and take over his inventory space. Glittering piles of enchanted golden apples cast a faint golden glow against bundles of poison-tipped arrows, countless firework rockets, glass vials containing various shades of bubbling liquid all in different shapes and sizes. 

Fully adorned in his finest set of netherite, Dream regarded his reflection in the mirror, slate gray with the finest sheen of purple from enchantments carefully picked and crafted over quite a long period of time. He ran his fingers over the fire-born metal, carefully studying its durability, then pulled a bottle of enchanting out of a chest, tossing it into the air and watching with satisfaction as the cool glass collided with the vault’s floors, exploding into a cloud of green and yellow that was easily absorbed by himself and the mending powers of his tools and armor. 

Everything, as he inspected, was back to perfect condition. 

***

Upon the day of the battle, Dream set himself up on the mountain he’d told Tommy and Tubbo to meet him. He stood, ominous in the way he looked across the valley below. Thanks to his keen eyes, he could rather easily make out the shapes of two figures running aimlessly across the savanna, coordinators in hand as they tried to find the exact location Dream had given them. He watched still, as Tubbo lifted his head at the waterfall roaring down the mountain side, then backed away as they began their journey to scale the mountain he discovered. 

Fifteen minutes pass. Dream’s blade is pressed against Tubbo’s exposed throat, a threat in the air and a demand for the disc clutched in Tommy’s trembling hands. Dream can feel the way Tubbo hurts when Tommy hesitates, and another spark of that same sadistic pleasure jolts through Dream’s veins. A line of blood creeps along the edge of his sword. Tommy relents, and the disc is back in Dream’s position. 

“You idiots!” Dream scathed, feeling like a victor, a true God among puny men, or boys, rather, in Tommy and Tubbo’s case. “This isn’t even the real disc! This is a fake! Do you really think I’m stupid enough to play your disc right in front of you? Of course not! It’s locked away, and if you even tried to take the real one, I’d kill Tubbo!” He bellowed, hysteria in his tone. It was so easy, too easy, to wrap these moronic children around his finger. 

Tommy’s expression darkened into something much more hurt and traumatized, and Dream ventured forward, shoving Tubbo to the side where he stood, recoiling for his breath and from the knife that’d been edging his jugular a heartbeat before. Dream stopped in front of the blonde, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be sad, Tommy,” he said, tone underlined with malice. “Your weakness and powerlessness is nothing new.” Dream turned again, materializing a shovel, then dug a hole, reinforcing the sides with a short cobblestone wall. 

He turned to Tommy. The smirk he’d been wearing was gone, and his voice faded back into the empty iciness it sported in serious moments. “Tommy, Tubbo, put your items in the hole.” He ordered. The boys hesitated. “Tubbo, I will kill you and take your stuff anyway. Might as well live another few minutes. Tommy, if you don’t cooperate, I will kill him right now.” 

Tommy and Tubbo exchanged horrified looks, then quickly obliged, shedding themselves of their belongings into the pit Dream had created. Their eyes were matching pools of darkness, defeat hung heavy in the air. 

“Good.” Dream quipped, then lead them away towards his vault. 

*** 

Walls of stark purple reinforced with obsidian, hidden deep below the mountain range, were a sight well welcomed by Dream’s eyes. He felt pride swell in his chest at the looks on Tommy and Tubbo’s faces as they took in the sight of his “attachment zone”, a name he’d thought was pathetic, but suiting, considering how fickle everything about getting attached to these sorts of items was. The long hallway trailed off to the left, but Tommy and Tubbo had eyes only for the two real, authentic discs.

Tommy clearly looked desperate to reach out for the items, but a simple warning about the low price of Tubbo’s life was enough to stop him in his movements. He watched still, as Tubbo futilely tried to convince Tommy that ‘it was okay’ and ‘Tommy should take the discs, I’m not important’, even though the highly evident despair in his tone and tremble in his hands made it painfully obvious that he did not, in fact, feel that way all about the situation. 

Dream knew he’d secured a checkmate. What he didn’t know was that his grip on the rival ‘king’s’ life was slipping with every passing second. All it took for him to make that realization was a buzzing noise and a herd of footprints coming from the direction of his nether portal to do that. Punz, Sapnap, BadBoyHalo, Awesamdude, Nihachu, literally everyone. Tommy’s expression lit up and a scream exploded from his chest, then he was racing across the vault with Tubbo in tow behind the wall of heavily armored and suited up bodies that separated them. 

***

Dream woke up fifteen hours and down two lives later in Sam’s prison. The rest of his memories from yesterday tired him too much to think about, as they made him uncontrollably angry, and smashing his fists against the obsidian walls was far too painful and irritating than sitting around and staring at the clock was. 

The loneliness he felt was indescribable. Only the hissing and spitting of lava and the occasional pop of his food dispenser was there to keep him company. Tommy had visited him earlier that day, resulting in Sam taking him out because of his discomfort. The only thing left on his mind now was George. The only person he wanted to see, so badly that it almost hurt, was George. 

To his surprise, half an hour later, Sam ventured over on his well-crafted conveyor belt. His sword rested carefully in its sheath, but Dream didn’t miss the way his fingers looked like they itched to be curled around its hilt. Dream also didn’t miss how Sam’s eyes flashed very subtly in the glow of the lava with an emotion Dream couldn’t place. Disgust? Disappointment? Curiosity or fear? He couldn’t know, but none of these options were off the table. Dream smirked under his mask. 

Sam tossed two baked potatoes to him and Dream caught them both, setting them down on the ground next to him, ignoring the way they rolled away from his side. He wasn’t hungry, let alone for spuds, so he needed not pay mind to the pathetic meal. 

“Eat.” Sam said, voice cold and laced with an order. Dream regarded him but did not speak. “Eat, Dream.” Sam said again, this time raised in intensity. 

“I don’t want to, Sam. It’s hard to focus on missing an appetite when I have much better things to be missing right now.” George flashed in his mind again, along with his best friend Sapnap’s smiling face. Dream pushed the mental images away with a curl of his lip. 

“Well, Dream, you have nothing better to do. You won’t be fed until morning, either.” Sam pointed out, taking a step backwards although not out of fear but because he likely had every intention to leave. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t interested in speaking to the prisoner. He worked here, and he wasn’t a visitor. He could see Dream whenever he pleased. 

“Just kill me, Sam. You have your sword.” Dream growled. “It’ll be easier. Don’t you want me dead, after everything I’ve done to this server? To Tommy and Tubbo, Wilbur and everyone else? To L’Manburg?” 

“It is not my place to make decisions like that. Your third life and your abilities belong to Tommy. If he wants you dead, so be it. Until then, you will sit here and rot. Eat your potatoes.” Sam turned away, the lava falling away again to make way for his platform. The blockade of netherite rose again to separate Dream from Sam, closing the prisoner off from his one and only spot of escape. “Goodbye, Dream.” Sam murmured. 

His words were met by nothing but silence, although the lingering eyes of Dream bore heavily through his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> again, i'm sorry this chapter's kinda all over the place! it'll be better next time, since i'll put some actual effort into it, and not completely scrambled up in a single day like this one was. hope you enjoyed in any case! comments and requests for other fics are always welcomed and etc. etc. :)
> 
> -nikoli <3


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